Chapter 151 – Tweaks and Repairs
Chapter 151 – Tweaks and Repairs
It doesn’t take long for Emily to spot Podrick through her bird’s eyes, walking through the compound while glancing around nervously.
She turns and heads straight towards him, walking along a road with a few other pedestrians, most of them wearing some form of greasy overall, before slipping between two closed warehouses with loud machinery whirring away inside.
She comes out a few metres behind Podrick and quietly approaches him, slipping an arm around his shoulder before he can react.
“Hey, Pod. Whatcha lookin for?” she asks, holding the boy still as he tries to leap away.
“GODD-“ he starts to yell before catching himself as his head snaps to the side and he sees Emily’s face.
“Oh, thank Goddess it’s you,” he says, letting out a relieved sigh. “I didn’t even hear you coming.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to. Anyway, where’s Calypso?”
“I’ll take you to her now,” Podrick responds, turning in the opposite direction to where he was going and marching off.
“Weren’t you looking for something?” Emily asks, walking in step beside him.
“I was trying to work out where you’d arrive so I could bring you to the ship.”
Emily raises a brow, but the innocent smile the boy flashes her suggests he’s either the best liar in the world, or genuinely wanted to help.
I should check if he’s mentioned his awakening to anyone. If not, it’s about time I tested Mother’s Blessing on him.
Podrick leads her deeper into the surprisingly large compound, past countless ships in various stages of construction. Emily curiously peeks into each open warehouse they pass, spotting various pre-made parts being carried into them, some of which are marked with traces of magical tampering.
She also sees several mages among the mechanics working on the ships, most of them only first circle but a few of them second, overseeing the enchantments being set up.
It doesn’t take long for them to reach the warehouse holding Calypso. Standing in front of the open bay door is Anton, arguing with a chubby man with greasy black hair.
“I don’t care about your relationship with the Defence-“ the man complains before Anton cuts him off as he notices Emily approaching.
“Emily! You’re finally here,” he says with relief, shooting Podrick an appreciative glance.
Emily looks at the boy, ignoring the annoyed shipyard staff, and sees him staring back with a cheeky grin.
I… guess he didn’t lie?
She gives him a small approving nod before turning her attention back to the argument.
“What’s the problem? You need me to pay?” she asks Anton.
“Yes please,” he replies, scratching his head and looking down apologetically.
“Fine,” Emily responds without batting an eye, already having promised to pay fees for repairing the ship, turning to the staff member. “How much is it?”
He coughs, drawing his anger in as he glances at the weapon at her hip and the proudly displayed runes on her armour.
“That would depend, Miss,” he says in a businesslike tone. “Do you need assistance with your repairs?”
“No.”
“Okay, and would you like access to our exchange and city shuttle system?”
“They are?”
“The exchange is our on-site ordering system where you can purchase pre-made or custom-ordered parts from our partners in Liberte,” the man explains eagerly. “And the shuttle system is our collection of transports that carry people to and from the city several times a day. If you purchase access, every member of your crew gets the privilege.”
“Right, can we take the shuttle system without the exchange?”
“Of course,” the man replies, losing some of the energy behind his sales pitch immediately. “That will cost you four gold a week, and you’ll need to pay for a minimum of a month upfront.”
“Sure,” Emily says, ignoring Anton wincing at the price and reaching into her belt.
The staff member’s eyes widen slightly as Emily’s hand vanishes up to the wrist in a pouch far too small for it, but he quickly recovers and regains his composure. She draws her hand out soon after, holding nothing, but before anyone can question it, she gestures up and gold coins float out of the pouch one after the other until thirty-two are floating in the air in front of her.
She flicks her hand out and the coins fly towards the chubby man before coming to a sudden halt and dropping into his outstretched hands.
“You accept coins from Modo, right?” Emily asks as the man looks up from the gold in his hands.
“Of course we do,” he responds with an admiring gaze that surprises Emily. “Thank you for your patronage. If you would like to extend your stay, upgrade your privilege package, or need any other help at any point, please find me in the administration building in the north of the shipyard. Give your ship’s name when you board a shuttle to the city, and you’ll be allowed passage. Have a pleasant stay.”
The man bows before turning and hurrying off while tucking the gold into his pockets.
“Are you sure he works here?” Emily questions Anton.
“Yes, the soldier that brought us here recognised him,” Anton says with a confident nod. “Thanks for that. I would have struggled to feed the crew if I paid that fee. This place is so expensive.”
“It’s fine.” Emily shrugs. “I said I’d pay for repairs, and I meant it. Now come on, let’s go in and talk about upgrades. I have some fun ideas in mind.”
***
A month later, Emily steps out of the warehouse into the overbearing mid-day sun, moving her scarf to wrap it around her head.
“Pod!” she shouts, looking back into the open room at the rebuilt Calypso.
The hole in the back is completely gone, without a single trace of damage left, and several areas on the ship have received a redesign, streamlining the ship into a smooth yet fierce look without a single working component below Emily’s minimum standard. There are still several panels open, three on each side, awaiting the final touches.
“Yeah?” A voice echoes across the room as a small head pops out from one of the open panels.
“I’m heading into the city,” she calls back. “I should be back with the final pieces tonight.”
“Okay, I’ll have the controls connected by then I swear!”
Emily makes her way through the shipyard to the transport carriers, nodding back at some of the friendly workers who greet her on her way past. She slips onto one of the transports without a word, as the driver recognises her, and settles down to meditate alone in the back of the long vehicle as it rolls through the open desert towards Liberte.
Earnie told me not to come till five, so I have some time to burn. Shall I finally go sign up as a mercenary? Calypso will be finished after today, so I don’t have another reason not to start working on my final progression requirements.
She pulls up her system, checking on her current goals.
¯¯¯¯¯
[Progression]
[Circle/Stage:] Third
Requirements:
-Intelligence 131/180 (Not Complete)
-Upgrade Basic Mana Manipulation to Intermediate grade (Complete)
-Create 0/1 unique D rank machine (Not Complete)
-Complete 3/3 C rank quests (Complete)
-Kill 1/2 fourth circle mages (Not Complete)
_____
Calypso will count as D rank once complete according to the blueprint, so all that’s left is increasing my intelligence and killing another fourth circle. Intelligence will probably take a while, but I hear some of the components for a lightning pill have been given as mission rewards for mercenaries before, even if they aren’t commonly traded, so maybe I can kill two birds with one stone.
She shuts the system and returns to meditating, rolling an empty bullet casing between her fingers, feeling the cold metallic touch as she focuses on the concept of metal, attempting to establish a connection. She’s been able to feel it getting closer and closer the longer she stays immersed in the workshop, pouring her heart into her craft, but it still feels just out of reach, as if hidden behind a veil that won’t lift no matter what she tries.
They arrive in the city and Emily gets off at a train station, heading straight to Merc Street. She wanders down the street, observing the large buildings on either side and reading the names proudly plastered above their entrances.
Silver Moon, where are you?
Emily searches for a specific company recommended by Earnie, Silver Moon: one of the top three companies alongside Black Fang and Snake’s Nest, and the only one with a working contract with Strongarm, Earnie’s weapons company.
She finds the right place quickly: a big building cut from white stone with a large, glistening metal half-moon mounted in the centre of the street-facing wall. There’s a huge rotating glass door, similar to the one at the entrance to the street’s station, so Emily steps into it and stares into the open foyer as it slowly turns to bring her in.
There are scattered seats, sofas, and tables all over the first half of the room, with several people relaxing with various levels of weaponry on display. Several of them glance over at the door as Emily steps in, sensing her powerful, barely contained magic signature, but the rest remain blissfully unaware.
At the far end of the room are multiple reception desks and even a familiar request board, scattered with job offers, bounties, and even a few trading requests.
Emily walks straight up to a receptionist.
“Good afternoon, how can I help you?” the young woman behind the desk asks with a friendly smile.
“I’d like to sign up as a mercenary please,” Emily replies.
“Of course! Are you an awakened applicant?”
“Yes.”
“Wonderful,” the receptionist chirps with an admiring gaze that Emily is already growing used to, having received the same reaction from more than half of the unawakened people she has talked to in Liberte. “There is a bit of paperwork to fill out, and then I will call upon a more suitable member of staff for your combat assessment.”
“Understood,” Emily says with a nod before the receptionist turns to retrieve a generic form from a drawer behind her.
“Please fill this out for me as accurately as possible,” the receptionist says, handing Emily a double-sided form and a pen. “You can take as much time as you need.”
Emily glances down at the form, scanning over it before picking up the pen and filling in her information so fast the receptionist gasps in shock, unable to follow her hand.
“There you go,” Emily says, casually sliding the form back.
“A- ah, yes, thank you,” the woman says, quickly regaining her composure and lifting the sheet to read.
Her eyes quickly go wide again as she scans over the information Emily has put down.
“Third circle… Nine elements… Utility and combat… Seventeen… Is this all accurate?” she asks, looking up sceptically.
“Yes, I can prove all of it.” Emily shrugs.
It’s not like I have a reason to lie.
“Okay.” The receptionist nods, pressing a button on the side of her desk. “Please take a seat and I will come get you for your assessment once someone of an appropriate level is ready. It shouldn’t take longer than an hour.”
Emily thanks the woman and finds a seat, dropping into it and shutting her eyes as she continues meditating, leaving a spare core to watch her body for when anyone approaches. No one bothers her until the receptionist hurries over, leading a third circle mage.
Emily’s eyes snap open, and she fixes her gaze on the hulking mass of muscle before her, squeezed into tight leather armour that looks ready to burst at any moment.
“Hello, Emily,” the man greets her with a gravelly voice, and a strange drawl, that fits his looks. “You know, it’s a common custom to pick a codename when you register as a merc. If you don’t, you’ll be given one by your fellows, and that don’t usually end up being something you like.”
Emily raises a brow at the sudden advice.
“That’s fine. I don’t care what people choose to call me behind my back.” She shrugs. “Why? Did you get stuck with something you hate?”
“Muscle Mountain,” he says with an expression of tired resignation that manages to make even Emily feel a little bad for the big guy. “Anyway, let’s get this show on the road. I’m third circle, Austin Carvalho, and you can follow me right through.”
Austin gestures for Emily to follow and turns towards a doorway deeper into the building. She pushes herself out of her seat and nods to the receptionist as she hurries back to her desk, before walking in step with the behemoth of a man almost twice her size.
“So, how does this work?” Emily asks.
“I’ve to confirm the details about your capabilities are all true, and then you’ll be given a classification and ranking,” Austin explains, holding up Emily’s entry form. “We’ll start off with the easy one and check your shootin', but I gotta say, this’s an impressive list of skills. Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Darkness isn’t on there,” Emily responds with a shrug, receiving a chuckle from the large man.
“You’re right.”
He taps a metal plate beside a large double door deeper into the building, sending a small pulse of mana into it that unlocks the door with a click.
“We gotta range through here,” he says, holding the door open for Emily to pass before leading her down the corridor. “You can show me your shot in there.”
Emily nods and quietly follows him, taking in the bare hallway lit by cold overhead lights that reminds her of The Dome. They stop before a door with ‘Gun Range’ carved into a silver plaque above it, and the moment Austin opens it Emily hears the crack of gunfire, and the smell of burning black powder hits her nose.
They walk into the room, and Emily sees a wide-open space split into a dozen lanes, each separated by walls with several human-shaped dummies set up down range. There are two small groups of three and five respectively, using two of the lanes, but the others are all free, and Emily’s guide approaches one of them.
“Do you need us to provide a gun, or do you have one?” Austin asks. “I just need you to prove proficient shootin’, I don’t mind what with.”
“Okay,” Emily says, pulling the Spitter from her thigh and flicking it into burst.
She casually raises her arm in a relaxed stance, side on to the range, and unloads. She pulls the trigger four times, sending ten bullets into the heads of eight targets in the blink of an eye.
“Is that good enough?” she asks, already knowing the answer from the shock in her examiner’s eyes as he stares down at her with an excited grin, looking like a man who just found an unclaimed mana vein.
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